


Shadow's Raven

by orphan_account



Series: Shadows [2]
Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011), S.W.A.T. (2003), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton is Brian Gamble, Clint Barton is William Brandt, Clint Barton/Ethan Hunt possibly, Clint Needs a Hug, Eventual Relationships, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Crossovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Avengers, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:46:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton has had an awful week. First his mind is taken over by an alien god, then he gets involved in a battle to save the world. And now? Now his face has been released around the world, and people are coming out of the woodwork to find him. </p><p>Which is par for the course when considering his brand of luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second part of the series. I apologize for the wait, I just finished finals week though, and should be posting more regularly now. 
> 
> That being said, please enjoy! :)

 

* * *

"Approaching Stark Tower." Ethan answered, his voice low enough to be lost in the crowd's chatter.

The crowd was a group of relief workers, all volunteers flown in to help with repairs. It reminded Ethan of after 9/11 when everyone had come out to support the city.

The reason was different this time, but the response was just as strong. While there was a percentage of humans who didn't care, who had their own lives to deal with first, there were enough on Earth who would drop everything to come help. It was ratifying to be reminded that they weren't the only ones trying to save the world one disaster after another.

Jane hummed from her end, interrupting his thoughts. "My group is on Main Street heading east. According to word of mouth, Captain America and Iron Man have both been spotted helping out."

"And the other, what are they calling them, Avengers?" Benji asked.

"Haven't been spotted." Jane reported, her voice low. "Speculation has them holed up in the tower."

"Makes sense." Ethan thought out loud, "If one of my teammate's cover had been blown I'd keep him out of sight and with backup."

Not to mention that none of the other Avengers seemed ideal for clean-up.

"Right-o." Benji agreed, the sound of him typing carrying over the line. It was agitated. "Have you come up with a plan yet, oh fearless leader?"

Ethan shook his head, knowing Benji was tracking him with what security cameras were left intact.

Jane's silence was answer enough that Benji squawked.

"This should be fun," he muttered to himself, slamming his fingers on the keys. "Breaking into Stark Tower. The most technologically advanced, likely most protected building in the world _. And_ we don't have a plan."

Ethan rolled his eyes, pulling his hat even lower on his face as the group approached the doors leading inside.

If anywhere in the city had operating security cameras and facial recognition up it would be Stark Tower.

Relief efforts for the city were operating from the bottom floors of Stark Tower. So getting inside was no problem, it was getting up to the upper floors that was the issue.

He squeezed his way in, the mass of people enabling him to blend in unremarked upon. He took a moment to scan the lobby.

There were multiple tables set up with Stark employees working them. Some were handing out water and food to relief workers coming off shift, while others were directing the new people and assigning them sectors.

To his left were public elevators. He frowned in thought. "Benji?"

The tech expert sighed over the line, his frustration tangible.

"There no blueprints for this building Ethan. If there are, they're not anywhere I can hack. You're flying blind."

The seasoned agent rolled his shoulders, taking another look around the room. In all likelihood the readily apparent elevators only went up as far as the business levels. There must be another elevator, a private one, that went to the topmost floors.

Where Brandt would be.

He worked his way to the edge of the room, planning to make a circuit on the periphery. There had to be a hallway, or back door, somewhere that would lead to where he needed to go.

"I think I found something." He whispered as he spotted a nondescript door. It was along the back wall, partially obscured by the plant next to it.

He'd bet money that door led to a private elevator.

"Be careful Ethan. We don't want to piss these guys off." Jane piped in, her voice muffled as she helped the relief workers.

Ethan slunk closer, glancing back to make sure no had noticed him easing away from his group.

"We're not here to hurt anyone." He assured Benji and Jane, as he slipped through the unlocked door. "We just want some answers."

"Well that's good. I'd hate to have to get in another fight so soon."

Ethan froze. He was caught before he was even through the door. 

* * *

"Can you step back?"

Clint glanced over his shoulder to confirm that Dr. Banner had joined him on the roof. He'd heard the door open, and the shuffle of feet had led him to believe it was Banner, but it never hurt to check.

The curly haired man had his hands stuffed in his pockets, nonchalant, his glasses glinting in the sunlight.

"I'm good here," Clint replied, shrugging his shoulders and rocking back and forth on his heels.

Banner took a hurried step forward, and Clint couldn't quite blame him for it.

Objectively, finding a traumatized teammate standing on the ledge of a sky scraper would be worrying. The fact that he was so close to the edge that his toes were hanging over open air probably wasn't helping.

He couldn't quite care though, this felt safer than anything else in recent memory. If Loki had left a failsafe in his mind, if he tried to take over again, Clint would be able to sense it. Sense it and step off the ledge before he was taken over again.

He'd fall to his death before he was used against his friends again.

It'd been over 24 hours since Natasha broke the brainwashing, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Banner must have guessed some of what was going on in his head because of instead of asking him to step back again he moved forward to stand just behind and to the left of him. As close as he could get to standing beside him without stepping out on the ledge himself.

"Tell me?" The question was quiet, unassuming, with no expectation that he'd answer.

Clint eyed the scientist, he'd already made the mistake of asking Natasha if she could relate when he knew, _knew_ , she could. He wouldn't ask Banner the same thing.

Out of the team, the three of them all knew what it was like to commit actions against their will. With no say in the matter. To wake up and realize you'd done things you never would have if you were in your right mind.

So Clint didn't comment on that, deciding to address the other thing on his mind.

"Right about now my face is all over the planet. I have a lot of people in my past that aren't going to be happy to see it, Doc." he said finally.

Banner looked out over the horizon, humming under his breath as he thought.

"You think they'll come after you?"

The archer considered the question, mentally going over all the undercover OPs he'd done. Ones where he'd brought entire regimes down, where he'd faked his death, where he'd infiltrated organizations that were technically allies. All with no remorse, with no time to look back, with no second guessing.

"Yeah. Yeah I think some will." he admitted, stretching his hands out and then up over his head. The movement pulled on the cuts up and down his back but he didn't flinch from it. He was used to pain, even relishing it.

Sometimes, the only way he knew he was alive was if he could still feel pain.

When his hands lowered Banner was watching him, his lips twisting into a concerned frown.

Then he nodded, his expression shifting to resolute. Firm.  "We'll be here when they do."

Clint startled, turning his head to fully face the doctor. His teammate now. 

He opened his mouth, to thank him, when the com-link still in his ear crackled to life.

"Barton." Natasha greeted.

He blinked, surprised. If she had truly been worried about him, it would have been her up here. Not Banner. This had to be about something else.

"Tasha?"

"You have a visitor downstairs. Shall I entertain him until you can join us?" Her voice was neutral but he could tell she was a mix of annoyed and amused.

Not someone here to kill him then.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, ignoring the look Banner was giving him.

Whoever it was, had gotten here faster than he'd expected.

"I'll be right down." 

* * *

" _Flight 39 to New York City is now boarding. I repeat flight 39 is now boarding_."

Jim glanced down as his ticket, double checking the number.

Relief efforts all around to world were being flown into the one operational airport just outside New York City's limits. He'd managed to finagle his way onto the flight out of L.A.

Honda had helped, pulling some strings. Jim hadn't asked, he'd had enough revelations about the people he thought he knew to last a lifetime.

And yet he had a sinking feeling he still had a few coming his way when it came to one Brian Gamble. Or whatever his real name was. Clint Barton was the one Honda gave, but Jim wasn't sure how much he could rely on that information.

He hefted his bag over his shoulder, joining the line of people getting ready to board.

As he waited he tried to imagine what he would do when he saw Gamble again. What would he do? What would he say?

Half of him wanted to punch the man, half of him wanted to hug the life out of him.

His relationship with the previously dead man had always been complicated. He'd missed the friend he had been, had felt guilty for his part in his death, but at the same time he'd been aware that Gamble had played a part. That he'd gone down a road that Jim couldn't follow, that could only have led to his death.

To find out that he had done that on orders, that he hadn't actually been corrupted…shook his worldview.

Had he really known Brian at all? 

He went through the steps of security and boarding on autopilot, not coming back to himself until he was standing by his seat. The two inner seats were filled already with two nurses, already dressed in scrubs as they talked over a case.

Jim nodded to them, forcing a smile as he took the aisle seat. Tilting his head back he studied the ceiling. He had a very long flight ahead of him.

Maybe by the end of it he'd know what to say to Gamble when he saw him.

* * *

Clint wrapped his hand around his other wrist, squeezing it until the bone shifted under his grip. He struggled to contain himself as the elevator brought them down to Tony's personal floor. It was hard, his mind couldn't let go of the question of who might be waiting for him.

Beside him Banner was quiet, a steady presence.

The doors slid open with a ding and Clint took a moment to breathe. With each ragged breath he took he tried to calm down.

"Barton?"

He ignored the doctor's concern, his nerves still shaky, and stepped off. After a quick look around he made a beeline towards Stark's bathroom suite.

Thanks to the disaster area that was the penthouse and the relief workers taking over the lower levels the team had taken over Tony's private suite.

It wasn't the tight fit it sounded like. His suite had two master bedrooms (one Tony's and one a guest), a full kitchen, living room, dining room, 3 full bathrooms and a movie room.

Needless to say, even when the entire team was there they all had plenty of space. Not that _they were_ all here. Thor was on the helicarrier, standing guard over Loki. A fact that brought some measure of reassurance to the archer, and the rest of the team. Meanwhile, both Cap and Iron Man were out helping search for survivors and move rubble. 

And in all of those rooms, there was only one that would suit Natasha's purposes.

Banner followed on close his heels, his confusion at their route not holding him back.

Pausing in front of the door Clint took one last large breath and knocked twice in quick succession. He paused, and then repeated the gesture at the same speed.

He waited until he heard Natasha repeat the noise with her fingernails clicking against the counter.

Bruce shuffled unsurely behind him but Clint didn't pay it any mind. Over the years he and Nat had developed their own language and signals, he wouldn't abandon that just because they were part of a larger team now. Perhaps they'd even teach the team some of it. Not all of it, mind, they needed some secrets.

Assured that it was safe to enter, he twisted the knob. 

The door opened and he looked around Tony's bathroom suite, eyes scanning and cataloguing the room automatically but focusing on the one safe thing in there.

What did it say about him that he considered the safest thing in a room the Black Widow?

Natasha was sitting on the counter cross-legged, using a knife to pick the dirt out from under her nails.

Her eyes flicked up at him, "Took you long enough Barton.

He nodded in answer to the real question under her magnanimous statement. _Are you okay?_

After a moment of looking into her reassuring green eyes, he shifted his gaze to the figure in the walk-in shower.

Or really, in a very Tony fashion, the shower was big enough that it was practically a separate room. The wall and door facing them were made of what looked to be bullet proof glass.

Natasha had barred the door shut with a what look liked a hair straightener through the handle. More a stop-gap measure than anything else, it wouldn't stop the IMF agent if he really wanted out.

Not that he'd be much of a threat to Natasha if he did get out. The agent was good, but Natasha was in a league all her own.

Inside the shower Ethan Hunt paced in tight circles, his form so much like a pacing predator that Clint's shoulders tensed.

Ethan came to a stop, facing him with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face.

"Hello Brandt. If that's even your name." Ethan's lips twisted into a sneer Brandt had never seen directed at him. Not even in their worst moments, their most heated arguments. "Or do you _even remember_ who you are anymore?"

He flinched.

Natasha threw her knife, and the three men in the room stared at where it was embedded in the glass door. An inch from breaking through, an inch from Ethan's left eye.

The IMF agent gulped.

"I'm just… going to go make some tea." Banner backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Clint locked the door without taking his eyes off the knife.

He whistled as he approached it. "That's some glass."

It had barely cracked around the knife. The impact hadn't done anything to affect the integrity of the glass surrounding it.

Stepping forward, he met Ethan's gaze as he gripped the handle and pulled it loose in one swift move.

He tossed it to Natasha blade first, watching it as it flipped in the air and landed in her palm neatly.

"My name is Clinton Francis Barton." He grimaced as he gave his full name, "But you can call me Clint. Or Brandt if it's easier. I'll answer to both."

Taken aback by the cordial answer Ethan blinked, visibly taking a moment to reassess.

His hands dropped and his expression smoothed out into something less aggressive, "We need to stop meeting like this Bran- Clint."

Clint's lips twitched, "There is a certain déjà vu to this isn't there?"

Their eyes met and for a moment they were both transported to a hut of a house in Dubai where Ethan had previously confronted Clint about 'who he really was'.

The moment passed when Natasha cleared her throat, tossing something towards Clint.

He caught it automatically, glancing down to see what must be Ethan's ear piece.

"Do you really want to tell the story more the once?" Natasha answered his silent question.

Clint huffed, but did as she wanted and slipped the radio into his ear.

"Benji?"

" _Will!_ "

"Yeah, hey, how about you and Jane come join us."

It wasn't a question.

There was a significant pause.

"Nothin' against you laddie but I don't know about that." Benji answered finally.

Clint couldn't blame him. In his shoes he'd be just as hesitant.

"You won't be hurt, Ethan hasn't been hurt. Besides if my teammates get wind that you're out there it'll be Cap and Iron Man bringing you here." he paused for effect. "That won't be fun for anyone."

He hoped Benji wouldn't call his bluff, he really didn't want to involve any more of his teammates in his mess. Not that Iron Man or the Captain would be rough with them anyway.

"I… can't argue with that." Benji replied, his voice just the wrong side of shaky.

Clint smiled. "Good. Go to the first floor of the tower. Look for a woman in a white pant suit with strawberry blonde hair. Her name's Pepper Potts. Tell her Barton sent for you and she'll send you up."

Before Benji could reply or Jane could add her input (he knew she was listening too) he took the earbud out and tossed it into the sink. 

Natasha hopped off the counter, "I'll tell Doctor Banner to put on enough for everyone."

After Clint's nod she slunk out of the bathroom.

He turned back to Ethan, finding that the Agent was now relaxed enough to lean casually against the glass door. His hand pressed against it in what could be taken as an invitation.

Confused at the change in attitude, Clint found himself stepping closer.

"Answer me this, Clint." Ethan started, his voice a notch lower than normal. "Did we ever really know _you_? Or was it all just a cover?"

The low, soothing tone of his voice drew Clint in until it was just the door separating them. At his side his hand twitched.

He swallowed, "You knew me." His voice came out rough with emotion.

Ethan nodded, like Clint had confirmed something he already knew. "I thought so."

He almost reached up and placed his hand over Ethan's, almost completed the mirror image, when the tea pot screamed from the kitchen. The sound jarred him.

Clearing his throat he instead moved his hand to take out the straightener, pulling the door open.

"How about we go help with the tea, and we can talk about it all when Benji and Jane join us?" He held his arm out, inviting Ethan to step out and lead the way.

Ethan seemed to deflate some (out of disappointment?) but stepped out of the shower nonetheless. 

"Lets."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought?
> 
> A/N: I'm still on the fence about pairing, I honestly like all of the ones I'm considering. (Clint/Ethan, Clint/Jim, Clint/Natasha or some mix). The fact that I like them all is actually making it harder to pick just one lol. Soooo any votes or thoughts?


	2. Allegiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update, but there's more to come soon if everything stays on schedule. Just wanted to get something up since its been so long.

* * *

"So there was this agent – Kim Bennett, at least I think that was her name, anyway. She was an agent in charge of the special espionage teams."

Natasha sipped her tea, the only clue that she was even listening in the way her gaze flicked away from the IMF team across the table to look at Clint. He paused in his explanation to meet her gaze, stuck for a second. 

This was a story only she knew, and their handlers, but she was the only one he'd ever told. It was strange to be sharing it with someone else. For so long Natasha had been his only confidante.

When he and Ethan had emerged from the bathroom they'd found both Banner and Natasha waiting for them. Sitting on the floor by the coffee table, a spread of hot tea and snacks in front of them.

Banner had been seated at the head of the table, serene as he cradled his tea in one hand and flipped through a book with the other. Upon seeing them Clint had hesitated only a second before sitting on Banner's right, across from Natasha.

Ethan had followed him over, sitting beside him as they waited for Benji and Jane.

Speaking of the two agents, Clint was drawn back to the present as Benji cleared his throat, "What was so bad about this agent that you were brought in? Assuming that's why."

He frowned in response. "She was corrupt. And the agents underneath her who spoke up had a habit of... turning up dead. Always on a mission, always in a way that couldn't lead back to her."

"I don't understand," Jane said with a frown, "how did you and shield get involved?"

Clint raised his shoulders in a half shrug, "The secretary asked us to."

He honestly didn't know more than that, though he suspected it was bureaucratic politics that had led to their involvement in what should have been another agency's own dirty laundry.

The three agents fell silent, exchanging a set of looks that Clint wished he couldn't read. He'd rather pretend that some part of them still trusted him.

Across from him Natasha frowned, shifting in her spot so one foot was tucked under her while the other stretched out in front of her. She deliberately pressed her toes to Clint's shin, offering comfort the only way she knew how.

Clint flicked his gaze at her, forcefully rolling his shoulders back in an attempt to relax.

The exchange didn't go unnoticed by Ethan, who due to his vantage point beside Clint could see just where Natasha's foot was.

Ethan crossed his arms tightly.

"I was placed undercover on one of her teams," Clint said as he glanced at Ethan, "The same team that was assigned to protect you and... Julia."

At that Ethan blinked, the implications sending his mind wheeling into several directions. Distantly he heard Benji ask something but his attention wasn't there.

If Brandt was Barton, a seasoned and superior SHIELD agent, how had he not already known Julia was a fake out? Had his guilt, the guilt that had brought them together and sent Brandt to the analysts been real? Or just part of the mask?

Had it all been a ploy to get under Ethan's guard?

"Stop." He interrupted Benji and turned to meet Brandt- Clint's eyes, "Explain Julia."

It wasn't a question, it was an order. And despite the fact that Clint wasn't under his command anymore (had he ever been?) he didn't think to expect anything but compliance.

The room had fallen into a tense silence but Ethan only had eyes for the man beside him.

Who was coming off calmer than he had any right to be.

"The guilt I felt was real, it's why I felt guilty that was a bit different." Clint said after a moment where he rather uncharacteristically, chose his words. Well, uncharacteristic for Clint. Not so much with Brandt.

Ethan narrowed his eyes but otherwise didn't prompt him to continue. And he didn't need to.

Clint shrugged his shoulders. "I had an idea that it was a cover up, but I didn’t know for sure. Either way, I knew something was wrong."

He swallowed roughly, "Whether I kept quiet out of obedience, or because I couldn’t blow my cover, it doesn't matter. I kept quiet when I should have said something."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Natasha shift, a scowl crossing her face, but the majority of his focus was on Ethan.

"As for my move to analyst… that was partly my guilt but it was also where they thought the mission needed me more." He said into the tense room.

He trailed off after that, not sure what else to add. If anything.

His savior once again, Natasha picked up where he left off, "With his experience in espionage and his access to mission files, it put him in a unique position of being able to prove what she was doing. All it took was her making one mistake."

Clint snorted, "you say that like it didn't all go to hell once Ghost Protocol was activated."

The three IMF agents winced, remembering the mess that had caused. 

Ethan chewed over what Clint had said. Weighing the truth of it.

"Okay." He said.

Clint's head jerked towards him, "Okay? So we're good?"

He looked so hopeful, but also so resigned to Ethan's answer being no, that he couldn't do anything but nod.

"One day I want the fully story, all the gory details, but for now? We're good."

Clint sagged over the table, his relief making him go boneless. Their eyes caught, and their equilibrium was restored. One of them may have changed names, and personality to a degree, but they were both spies and they could see the core of it. The core of the person. They were back on the same wavelength.

The moment was ruined when Benji squawked, "hold up, I still have questions. Like how you fooled the computers and facial recognition. This is your face right? You're not wearing a mask?"

He looked set to continue his barrage of questions but they never got to hear it as Jane smacked him upside the head.

"Drink your tea Benji."

* * *

There were times Jim couldn't believe his life had turned out the way it had. Ever since his time in the military, with Gamble, he'd pictured his future with his best friend. Back then, he'd never imagined a world where they wouldn't grow old together, bickering all the way.

He'd pictured them forming families, working together, and just plain old living their lives out together. The most vivid of his imaginings had been them sitting in rocking chairs together, on an old porch somewhere, drinking beer and taking the piss out of each other.

And yet, for the last several years he'd found himself living that future he hadn't thought to picture. A life without Brian Gamble. 

A man who was too troublesome by half, who only seemed to get Jim into binds he'd have to get them both out of. 

But also a man who was loyal, who made Jim laugh like no one else ever had. Who had broken down walls no one believed Jim possessed. Not easy going, genial, popular Jim Street.

Brian had never bought that, had seen through him from the very beginning. 

He set down his duffel bag, letting the crowd split around him like a rock in the ocean.

Well, when he thought about it like that... 

What else could he have done when he recognized Brian but come to New York?

It was time to see which future lay in front of him now. 

The one he'd planned out for years, or the harsh reality he'd been forced to face until a few days ago. 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought?


End file.
